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I really thought that when I reached my goal weight, it would be a little more like Jennifer Hudson with singing and magical fairies of fat loss and a little less oh, I don’t know – ordinary?

Mind you, I know not whether I’ve actually reached my goal weight. It’s just that I’ve been jogging 2-3 times a week for about 5 months and I’m eating better and since I used to have macaroni and cheese and cheeseburgers twice a week and sat on my very cushioned tush every single day before that, logic dictates that I must have lost something. …Right?

The whole weighing-myself thing wasn’t going very well so I ditched it; now I have The Naked System. Instead of weighing myself, now I just stare at my pudge in the mirror every day. I pinch it, I cradle it, I inspect it from all sides, and in the process determine my accomplishments. If I’m overly soft, I get more motivated to eat and jog that day. If I’m proud of myself, I decide it’s because I’ve been having pudgy naked time in the mirror every day and it’s working. And if I stay the same, well, that’s because I check every single day and change is slow.

So I don’t have a number on the scale I’m looking for because I won’t let myself look. I just know that 5 months ago I could take all the stomach fat in my hands and hold it in front of my body. I was so married to it that I had considered a variety of Jackie Blog marketing tactics including a muppet, a voice, a variety show… But now the Pudge Muppet is gone. I have forced my body to run against its will. It’s been months of jogging and eating better and having pudgy naked time and now when I wear my pants the second time after a wash, they scoot down my hips.

Photo borrowed from the magical fat fairy celebration parade.

I thought that was the sign. I thought something epic like pants scooting down hips meant that a fat version of me would burst out of the closet singing about the woman I used to be. Then I could endorse a food establishment of my choosing and get a book deal and go on talk shows discussing the secret to how I changed my entire life and have nothing more important in my character than my ability to be fit. Maybe I could even get my own google doodle. (The o’s would obviously compose my former marshmallowy bottom).

But I even put on my skinny jeans the other day and there was no doppelganger bursting forth from the closet to sing a duet with me. It was just me, singing in the mirror. Naked.

It’s times like those that I’m glad my cats can’t talk.

I had sincerely hoped that by now people would start to notice, but the only one who’s said anything at all is the cleaning lady at work. Either she’s just trying to make me feel better or she’s the only one who I encounter in my daily life. Neither is a preferable truth.

Maybe the change has to be more drastic. Maybe I just need to get some better fitting clothes instead of walking around in my former fat suits. Or maybe Angelina Jolie’s emaciated limbs at the Oscars made it impossible for anyone to look worthy of a fat loss hallelujah session.

I should probably just call JHud myself and see what it is that made her former fatty burst forth in vocal glory. I want my nationally televised self-duet.

15 Responses to “Where’s My Fat Loss Hallelujah?”

Awesome progress Jackie. Glad you decided to ditch the weighing scale. It’s really not an appropriate measure of progress. I have a similar experience with the pants thing you were talking about. After a few months of running, I tried on a pair of shorts that I haven’t worn since highschool and well… they fell to my knees! Burst out laughing there. That’s when it hits you. You done a good job.

People really won’t notice unless the change was super drastic and/or you start wearing clothes that FIT your new body. Your work-mates could also be conspiring against you because we both know damn well how ladies in the office behave.
So yeah…get better fitting clothes. It’s the same for guys, REALLY! Doesn’t matter if a man is wearing a $1000 dollar suit. The suit will still look like shit if it’s not fit properly.

Ah, I forgot the office lady quotient 😉 And yes to the clothes. I think I might set another goal and then go celebrate with clothes-buying when I reach it. (Like when I get my arms toned enough that I can no longer fly away on a good breeze).

And thanks for the constant encouragement/chiding you’ve given me. I’m sure it’s been a contributor to me getting my butt off the couch.

Second–I, too, have felt the unsatisfying disappointment of people not noticing right away when I’ve lost weight. The good news is that, eventually, they will. All at once. In an almost embarrassing congratulatory chorus.

I can also totally relate to The Naked System. I do it every day.

The important thing is that you feel better. There is not a single compliment on Earth that compares to the feeling you get when those jeans slip off your hips 😉

Hallelujah! Congrats on the new, fit Jackie. Your Couch to 5k program inspired me to start running. It has been 3 weeks and I’m up to 2 minutes at a time on the treadmill. I feel like a big doofus only running that long, but it’s 1 minute longer than I could manage 3 weeks ago. I walk 4-5, run 2. Boston Marathon, here I come!

Whoa. Seriously?! That’s awesoooome. And don’t play down the 2 minutes; it was incredibly hard for me too. And go as slow as you need to. The hardest thing for me to learn was to be easier on myself. You rock – Grats!!

Well done for reaching a goal! How about celebrating with a shopping trip to buy new thin clothes?

Is it possible people aren’t commenting because they are concerned about implications? If they say “Oh my, Jackie, how much weight you’ve lost!” they might worry you think they mean you used to look like a beached whale! (Which I’m sure you didn’t…)

You’re not the first to say this – I find it strange. Do people seriously not compliment people’s weight loss because they’re afraid of offending them? What person in the entire world does not want to be paid the compliment when they used to be so obviously unhealthy? We should immediately begin complimenting all these people. I’ll inform the masses.

In my experience (a two-year loss of 45lbs and several inches of waistline), people you see all the time won’t recognize the change as readily, because they see it gradually, and they don’t have the extra cues (like skinny jeans or less pudge to hold) that living in your body gives you.

A friend or family member who hasn’t seen you in months WILL recognize the change, but even then they might not say anything out of politeness.

Find your fat victory in the mirror and inside yourself. That’s the only place it matters anyway.